


The hands of a healer

by Morvidra



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Healing, Teaching, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morvidra/pseuds/Morvidra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel teaches Tilda to heal, and begins to heal herself</p>
            </blockquote>





	The hands of a healer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/gifts).



Tauriel guides Tilda’s hands gently.

“Now you see, the bandage must be wrapped _so_ – not so tight it cuts off the flow of the blood, nor so loose that it will not hold the flesh together.” She helps Tilda to finish wrapping the damaged limb. “There! And now we leave it, for the body must do its own healing. But we change the bandage every day, and that is when we check to see if the wound heals well.”

She moves the little girl to the next pallet, on which lies another wounded fighter.

“Now this wound was bandaged yesterday, so we must check it today. We unwrap – carefully, carefully – we do not want to cause damage in our healing. There…” Tauriel pulls away the last of the bandage that Tilda has slowly unwrapped, her tongue between her teeth in concentration. “And what do you think we see here?”

“It looks messy,” Tilda says, screwing her face up into a grimace. “But I think… it doesn’t look bad. And… you said earlier about how wounds _smell_ bad when they get inf-, infet-ed?”

“Infected,” Tauriel supplies the word.

“In-fec-ted,” Tilda sounds out slowly, committing it to memory. “Well, I don’t smell anything really bad here.” She looks up at Tauriel to check for approval. “Just blood.”

“Quite right,” Tauriel says approvingly. “This wound heals well, so we merely need to re-bandage – using a clean bandage, always – and leave it to continue the good work of the flesh.”

They are halfway to the next pallet when Tilda tugs on Tauriel’s sleeve. “Why don’t you heal them with your magic?” she asks, her face intent. “You healed the dwarf when he was hurt. Why don’t you heal these?”

Tauriel’s heart skips, and for a moment, she feels unable to breathe.

Gathering all her emotions and harnessing them, she crouches to be on a level with Tilda. “Because the ‘magic’, as you call it, has many limitations, little one,” she says, her voice sounding calm. “It takes much of my strength. These wounds that we see here are not vital ones, they will not kill the men if treated properly. Yes, I could heal one, two – maybe three completely. But what of the rest? For if I did so, I would then have no strength even to walk to the next bed, nor to do such simple healing as we do here, today.” 

She grasps Tilda by the shoulder, looking into the girl’s eyes. “A good healer knows when to let the body heal itself. In extremity – then, yes, it is good to know other methods. But they are not magic,” she says earnestly. “Or if there is magic involved, then it is the magic that lies within the herb you remember me using, the herb _athelas_.”

“Can you teach me to use that herb?” Tilda asks solemnly. “I want to be a good healer – like you.”

“I will teach you what I know,” Tauriel vows, and they shake hands on the promise.

As Tilda turns to the next patient, Tauriel allows her grief to fill her for one moment. Then she masters herself, and follows the young pupil in whom she is beginning to take such pride. There is much to be learned, for both of them.

[](http://s1016.photobucket.com/user/Morvidra/media/tauriel%20and%20tilda.jpg.html)


End file.
